


Once, Always

by Prexin



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcoholic!Gavin, Anger Management, Angst and Romance, Blowjobs, Depressed!RK900, F/M, Fast Burn Smut, Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Gay Disaster Gavin Reed, M/M, Office Blow Jobs, Rough Sex, Slow Burn Romance, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Is Bad at Feelings, handjobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23102128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prexin/pseuds/Prexin
Summary: Gavin's an alcoholic. Nines has his own problems. They're not good for each other, but they're nothing if not stubborn.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	1. Powerless

It was Fowler’s Christmas party, something the old man paid for himself. You had to be off duty to attend and everyone was drinking.

Except Gavin. His chip was burning a fucking hole in his pocket. Thirty days sober and Christmas was always the worst. Always. Even if it wasn’t _actually_ Christmas, it fuckin’ felt like it. Every year it was like he was being attacked by the tinsel and evergreen trees, golden glass and fucking cartoon snowflakes.

Thirty days sober.

He locked the bathroom door when he dumped out his beer into the sink. His hands shook and the bottle slipped. It got on his cuffs, on his hands and the dip of his shirt.

“Fuck,” he mumbled to himself. All the grace of inebriation and none of the fucking fun.

The liquid was dark and foamed awfully against the sink. He let the water run while he thought about fucking just… _licking_ the porcelain, because that would be a start, an excuse to go back out there and drink an actual fucking _drink._

But he filled up the dark glass bottle with tap water and then looked at himself in the mirror.

Jesus. He was a fucking _mess_.

He could see now, in the cold harsh light of Fowler’s bathroom lights that he’d missed a few spots shaving, creating funny line at the line of his jaw. And his eyes were bloodshot because okay, yeah, he wasn’t sleeping very fucking well these days.

He looked away. Unlocked the door.

And almost slammed into Nines.

The robot had to be light seven foot fucking tall. They hadn’t even started working together yet, not until March is what Fowler said, when the RK900 would have official passed all of the training courses and such.

Just a formality.

It smiled at him, reaching out to steady him, a movement he was quick to jerk away from.

One of its perfectly sculpted eyebrows crooked up in the most _suggestive_ fucking way.

Seeing the thing about the office in the fucking officer one uniform had been bad enough. Gavin avoided it like the plague. Fuck. _Fuck_. Gavin had a thing for uniforms. And the new android models with all their… all their fucking… posture, and the handcuffs holsters at their pockets.

God. It all went straight to his fucking dick.

But it wasn’t a human. It was like having a hardon for a fucking cartoon or something. Not something he’s ever admit aloud. That was between him and his own goddamn browser.

Thank god Fowler had instituted a ‘no dress’ policy for his house parties.

Not that the Nine’s civvies were any better. He was wearing a jacket that tapered perfectly to his waist and a pair of dark jeans that clung to every curve Gavin was trying _desperately_ not to catalogue. He wasn’t going to lust after a robot. He still had some goddamn dignity.

“Everything okay?” it asked.

And he realized he’s just been staring at it. And no doubt it could see everything he had seen in the mirror, and more.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah… I… Sorry.”

“No problem here,” the android said easily. “Glad to meet you at last, Detective Reed. It’s a pleasure.”

Gavin forced a smile. “Yeah. What are you doing back here anyway?”

“Captain Fowler sent me to find you. He figured it was about time we meet. It’s long overdue, after all. Given how closely we work together, ” Nines said easily.

“Oh yeah,” Gavin muttered, covering the urge to roll his eyes with a swig of the bottle, grimacing in distaste as the flat, hard taste of water met his tongue and filled his mouth.

“Can I get you something stronger to drink?” it asked, its lips quirking in a challenge.

Gavin looked down at his beer. “Yeah,” he said.

His brain wasn’t working.

“Looks like we’ll need it,” the android said. “Anderson’s rounding up teams for charades.”

“I’m never going to be drunk enough for that,” Gavin muttered.

Nines grinned. “Well I bet I can loosen you up.”

Gavin straightened, glancing up into the android’s storm-grey eyes. “What the fuck does that mean?”

The android shrugged. “We’ll be working together in a couple of months. What better way to test a partnership than _charades_ , right?”

#

The fucker was forward. It went for what it wanted. They did play charades together, and Nines keptfilling up his tumbler with something that burned just right and settled light and warm in his stomach.

And he was actually having _fun_.

At a _Christmas_ party. Playing _charades_.

Maybe stranger things had happened.

He found himself doubled over and laughing more often than he had in months, maybe _years_. Nines was _awful_ at playing out the prompts and worse at guessing them. It was charming in a way, watching his eyes flicker for a moment as he watched a movie at a hundred or thousand times the speed, his face flickering through emotional catharsis and confusion as he watched Forest Gump and Donnie Darko in order to find a way to act them out for the movie round.

He took things way too literally, and Gavin was actually thinking for a few hours that this might not be so bad. This partnership Fowler was so adamant about setting up.

Maybe sometimes… maybe sometimes good things did happen.

#

The night wound down. And people left or collapsed onto sofas on the beds Fowler had set up fir just such an occasion. Gavin had to give it to the captain—he was one hell of a host.

By now he was pleasantly tipsy, the burn in his stomach telling him he was on his way to being fully drunk when he realized that he and Nines were crowded together in an empty hallway. Everyone was too close and just far away enough to dismiss the two of them out here.

And he was halfway to a laughing at a joke he was telling when Nines pushed forward at just the right angle, at just the right time for a goddamn perfectly choreographed kiss.

It tasted…

Sort of like antifreeze, if he was honest. A little of that sweet, slippery, distinctly _chemical_ flavor. But it was… it was _nice_. He was reminded a little of gasoline, the scent of it burning in the old school buses when Detroit was too fucking poor to afford the electric option.

God, he hadn’t realized how much he missed that scent. It was heady and caustic and masculine in a way Gavin had never felt such a thing captured.

He must be drunker than he’d thought, to be letting an _android_ dig its tongue into his mouth. He was making out with an android _cop_ of all things. Holy fuck was he going to regret this in the morning. Oh well, he could add it to the long list of—

And then he remembered the coin in his pocket.

How the _fuck_ could he have forgotten? He rocked back. Fuck. _Fuck_. Down the fucking drain, he was such a fucking _fuckup_. He was such a fucking _alcoholic_ and how was he going to go home and face his sister? She was waiting up, she’d trusted him to go to this thing, to be strong, and they were going to celebrate tomorrow with a breakfast at Sunjay’s diner.

Thirty days sober.

Gone.

Nines’s hand tugged on his jeans and Gavin shoved him, hard. Clearly the robot hadn’t been expecting it. The android stumbled back his knees buckling before he found his weight again without having to clutch onto a wall. His eyes were wide and frightened. “Whoa,” he said. “Hey—Gavin?”

Fucker didn’t drink. Fucker had been handing him shots all fucking night. He might as well have been pouring whiskey down his throat.

“It’s Reed,” Gavin said wiping his lips with the cuff of his jacket. “My name is Detective Reed, you fucking prick.”

Nines retreated even further, holding his hands up, looking absolutely fucking _horrified._ “Detective Reed, I’m so—I’m so sorry, I—”

“Touch me again,” Gavin scrubbed as his face, as if he could run away the electric tingle of its lips on his skin. “And I’ll strip you down to parts, you fucking _freak_.”

It nodded. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry, I thought— I didn’t think I—"

Gavin zipped up his jacket while the android stood there, its hands wavering in midair, caught between many explanations. Questions. Fucking _excuses._ In the end it stuck with silence, hunching inwards and flinching whenever Gavin’s eyes caught on it.

Gavin left without talking to anyone, slamming Fowler’s door on the way out.

He had his car drive him to the closest liquor store.

And he didn’t remember much else after that.


	2. Chapter 2

He missed the wagon a few times after that. “It’s going to get easier, I promise,” Sarah said when they stared up at the ceiling together. She’d been crying, he could hear it in her voice, but he couldn’t summon the enthusiasm to feel guilty.

Not yet at least. The alcohol helped with that too. It helped with everything.

“I think I’m better with it,” he whispered.

Her hand tugged out of his grip. She sat up, turning away from him. There were six years between them, but he hardly saw her as his older sister anymore. She was just… Sarah. His best friend. The one who had sucked all the potential for _goodness_ and _niceness_ out of their mother’s womb before he ever got planted in that barren soil.

“You’re not,” she said, her returning whisper smooth and definite.

#

When he went back to group, it was February. The heavy golden-red ' _1 month'_ coin living in his pocket was a new symbol now. A representation of shame, guilt, and hope rather than pride. He’d done it before. He could do it again.

He took another plastic-silver 24 hour one, and started a new count. It felt heavier, somehow, than it had the first time he’d held it.

Afterwards, Courtney, the organizer, found him outside. He always lingered outside for a smoke, it calmed the shakes out of his hands, let his mind float with the smoke curling through the glaring industrial bulbs of the parking lot.

“Need a ride?” she asked

A friendly question. She was genuinely concerned that he couldn’t afford a cab. No one had bothered him much to find out what he did for a living or where he worked. He talked about the Christmas party, a little bit. The dalliance with a colleague. But he was careful with clues.

The force had an AA program all of its own, but he’d rather chew bees than stand up in front of them and admit he’d taken things a bit too far.

He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.

He nodded out to the parking lot. “I’ve got one,” he said.

Sarah was there, waiting for him, he could see her in the car they’d taken, the light on and a book in one hand, coffee cradled to her chest with the other. She was absorbed in her reading, her dark hair clouded around her face.

“Girlfriend?” Courtney asked.

“Sister.”

Courtney leaned back against the brickwork. “How’s your search for a sponsor going?” she said.

Gavin shook his head. “I’m not ready yet.”

“I won’t push it. But it…” She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “This works better if you _feel_ anonymous. You need to feel safe. If you can’t do that here, with this group, you need to consider finding another one.”

He drove this far, every single week, precisely because it was far away enough to be safe. He’d staked it out, done his research, waited until the meeting was starting before he headed inside. He felt as safe as he was ever going to with this.

“This is what I want,” he said.

“Good,” she said. “That’s something to cling to, Gavin. Thirty days is a long fall. It’ll knock the wind out of you.”

He nodded and flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushing it against the concrete.

She reached out and clasped his shoulder. “You’re doing really well.”

He quirked his lips in a half smile though he felt completely and utterly hollow. “One day at a time.”

#

Fowler formally introduced them in his office and it was _fucking_ awkward. Nines is still looking for a name that fits, so Gavin was stuck with the strange nickname the station has come up with. It bothered him, suddenly, that he has to call it by its number, by the only thing that distinguished it from Connor.

There wasn’t much paperwork to be done, but Fowler has them sign off in his office, standing at his door and peering over the precinct like he’s a foreman and a factory. At least Nines is out of its uniform, it was wearing a neat white shirt and black pants. It looks like a substitute teacher.

Fuck. Why did he have to think that? Why—it wasn’t even on his list of kinks and now he can’t get the image of it leaning over a desk with a smirk. All _smart_ and shit, and fuck, Gavin could be in detention for doing something horrible and he deserves to be punished. He could imagine teacher Nines reaching for its belt, long fingers pulling the buckle free—

“Can we talk?” Nines asked softly, his eyes flickering to the captain.

Gavin swallowed, he nodded. Goddamn, it could register desire, couldn’t it? Read his pulse and his pupil dilation and— _goddammit._ That was unfair, he couldn’t _control_ any of that.

It was just desire. Not a goddamn crime. If anything, it was a breach of his goddamn privacy to even notice it.

“Yeah,” Gavin said. “Observation?”

It nodded.

#

The door whirred shut behind them and Gavin leaned back against the desk, his back to the observation glass and interrogation room beyond. They were soundproofed in here, away from prying eyes and ears to talk about the… what the fuck they were going to do about their work.

“I’m sorry,” it said quickly, before he could open his mouth. “What… what I did at Christmas. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The room was dark and calm and the emptiness in the interrogation room outside was… it felt like that _was_ the world outside this room. Still, frozen, waiting.

“I thought you were nervous around me,” the RK900 continued, the words rushing out. “So I thought… I thought I could just… just get you to relax to see that I was harmless that we could be friends. That we could work together. And I took it too far, I know I did, I always _do_ —”

Its face caught the shadows of the room, all broad angles and sharp lines. It was _unfair_ how fucking perfect they made them look. Why would a police officer have to look like that? Like he’s stepped off a goddamn billboard.

“Sometimes I just… I don’t have any self control. I _knew_ it could mess everything up here at work, but I don’t… I think I might have a problem—"

Gavin’s heart was hammering. He wanted to taste the robot again. Fuck, he hadn’t realized how much he _hungered_ for that sweet, caustic ache. He had to know whether it tasted that good without the sourness of alcohol and dehydration on his own tongue.

“You don’t have to be scared,” Nines said, his voice dipping even lower. He sounded so _fucking_ sexy like that, all hoarse and needy. “Please… please don’t be. It was just a mistake. I would never, _never… hurt_ you or anyone else. I just… I lost control and I didn’t realize you had drunk so much that I could… misread your reactions like that. I wasn’t trying to take advantage—”

This time it was Gavin who stepped forward. He reached up and tugged the android down into a kiss. It resisted for a brief moment, taken by surprise.

And then it was dipping forward just as hungrily, stepping closer so that there was no space between them.

And that taste. The taste of Nines was _better_ this time. Gavin took a moment to explore it, the sour-freshness. Cleaner than red ice, sharper than thirium. Sterile and perfect. Nines was fumbling urgently at his belt, the androids hands were _shaking_ as he fought Gavin’s zipper.

No control or coordination. Gavin tried to bring him back for another kiss. He didn’t care about his cock right now, he wanted the ache to build for a few moments longer, he wanted to savor the taste and aftertaste and—

But Nines slipped out of his grasp, collapsing to his knees at Gavin’s feet. “Whoa,” Gavin said, looking down, feeling a little cheated as his hands were left empty. “Wait, we sh—”

Whatever he’d been about to say, it was lost immediately as Nine’s mouth found him. Gavin’s hands hit the desk at his back and he widened his stance immediately with a strangles hiccup of breath. _Fuckfuck holy fuck_. Nines was giving him _head_.

His eyes caught on the lock at the door, green because it was unlocked.

Oh fuck if Fowler walked in, if Connor or Hank—

And that was as far as his thoughts made it because Nine’s head was moving in the semi-darkness, and he could feel the android’s tongue, the delicate scrape of his teeth, the suck-draw of soft, wet synthetic tissue. He let go of the desk and clenched a hand into Nine’s hair trying to force the android’s pace to slow down because was going to— This couldn’t last, it couldn’t he was going to—

He was making noises in the darkness, unattractive grunts and gasps because holy _fuck_ he’d never had a blow job like this. Sure, he’d had better, he’d had softer, harder, but never… never like _this_. At work, when anyone could walk in, with a fucking _stranger_. With a fucking _robot._

“ _Nines_ ,” he whispered, his knuckles straining on the desk and in the android’s hair even as he bucked into its mouth. “ _Nines, we can’t—”_

The android broke away and Gavin’s dick ached in the open air, like it was fucking _bruised_. “ _Use me_ ,” the RK900 whispered back.

And that was all it fucking took.

Gavin let go of the desk with his other hand and found a grip on the other side of the android’s head and he _lost_ it. Never with any partner had he been so fucking rough. It just wasn’t the kind of thing that turned him on, but there. Then…

He chased himself to climax at a brutal pace, fucking into Nine’s mouth huffing out his breath with every thrust. His pants were bunched around his thighs, he couldn’t get his stance right, but somehow that _added_ to the height of the moment.

He grunted in a mounting rhythm, losing all control of his volume. He cried out, the noise grating harshly in his throat as he felt his balls tighten and he drove himself deep into Nine’s throat, and it felt farther than was _humanly_ possible. Nine’s plastic nose pushed into his pelvis and Gavin came so hard he literally saw stars. The world trembled around him as his dick twitched and his knees buckled, forcing him to use Nine’s head as a support until he could balance again on the desk.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed, panting like he’d just run a fucking marathon. “Fucking… _shit_.”

“That bad?” Nines asked. God. Its voice sounded _husky_. Why the hell was _that_ a feature?

“ _Jesus Nines_ ,” Gavin hissed, stuffing his dick back into his boxers and pants. How _his_ hands were shaking. “What the _fuck_? Did you _swallow_?”

“You weren’t giving me much of an option, chief,” the android pointed out slowly hefting itself back onto its feet. It sounded dazed, as dazed as Gavin felt if that was possible.

“Fuck...” Gavin carded his hair back from his face, trying to get his heart to slow down. “Are you okay? I—I didn’t mean to—”

“That was fun,” Nines said, and its voice was almost back to normal. It had fixed its hair and straightened its clothes, forcing Gavin to catch up. “Ready to solve some crime?”

It sounded strange. Manic. Gavin couldn’t stop shaking. He couldn’t fucking _believe_ what had just happened. “Nines, Jesus. I—”

The door chirped a warning and Gavin froze as officer Wilson stood in the doorway. “Detectives,” he said blithely, dancing past Nines to get into the room. “You may want to clear out. Anderson and Connor are bringing in a dealer.”

Nines tipped two fingers to his head in the mockery of a salute and turned out of the room.

Wilson raised an eyebrow at Gavin. “What’s up with him?”

Gavin blinked. It had all… it had all happened so fast and now with the light of the precinct shining through the door, the whole thing had taken on an almost dreamlike quality. “I have no fucking idea.”

#


End file.
